


Twelve to One

by MistyDeath



Series: medical menage a trois [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blow Jobs, Consensual Infidelity, Explicit Sexual Content, Hand Jobs, Hospitals, Infidelity, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Post-Hogwarts, Rimming, Silence Kink, St. Mungo's, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 19:29:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23972944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistyDeath/pseuds/MistyDeath
Summary: It didn’t happen at the stroke of midnight, Harry thought idly. No, like all good things known to mankind, it happened at a time no one would’ve predicted. He’d opened his eyes slowly, looking straight at the door, questioning.The sign over it showed twelve to one.As he’d met Blaise’s eyes over Draco’s spread torso, Harry had smiled in kind. He’d faced worse odds.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter/Blaise Zabini, Harry Potter/Blaise Zabini
Series: medical menage a trois [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1728385
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	Twelve to One

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a much requested sequel for fans of the initial one and inspiration struck during these Quarantimes. So, please enjoy the one indulgent thing I've managed to post in months!

Blaise hadn’t made a sound, hadn’t given a sign that he was interested. Harry’s eyes had nearly fluttered closed, breath nearing the rhythm of body aside him. The only indication of what would happen had been a hot, searing touch slipping itself under the elastic of his scrubs.

It didn’t happen at the stroke of midnight, Harry thought idly. No, like all good things known to mankind, it happened at a time no one would’ve predicted. He’d opened his eyes slowly, looking straight at the door, questioning.

The sign over it showed twelve to one.

As he’d met Blaise’s eyes over Draco’s spread torso, Harry had smiled in kind. He’d faced worse odds.

Blaise had nodded, quiet and astute. Skilled fingers made their way down to palm at Harry through his briefs. It’d been an insistent, pleasant warmth. The kind that overwhelmed yet soothed away any flush of desire with an unrelenting pressure. Harry’s hips began twitching into Blaise’s grip, trying to catch _more_, wanting _something_ to rut against.

The second he’d opened his mouth to say so, Blaise had simply held a finger to Harry’s lips. That same, soft, unrelenting pressure shut them, rubbing against them in a mimicry of closing a zipper. He pulled it back to his own mouth, lips parting to let out the softest murmur. “Shhhh, you’ll wake him.” With a wink that had precum leaking and pooling in an attempt to cool the fire burning its way through Harry’s stomach, Blaise cast a silencing spell over the two of them.

It was a good thing he did, because the next second Blaise’s mouth had wrapped itself around Harry’s now-freed cock and ripped a non-existent scream from his throat.

Overwhelming wasn’t a good enough of a descriptor. His hands flailed out as his knees, trapped in the wrapping of his pants, kicked out to make room. Harry could feel the contrasting heated palms and slick, smooth fingertips gripping into the meat of his thighs and ass. As Blaise had bobbed his head down, Harry had stared at his hair and wondered if it’d be worse to pull the carefully constructed curls or keep holding onto Draco’s side.

Under one hand, the man he was dating would find out he was cheating. On the other, the man he was currently being devoured by _might stop sucking his dick_.

Harry was trapped between a rock and a hard place.

Merlin, the sight of it drove Harry to pieces. His hands had to be marking Draco’s ribs hard enough to bruise. Golden-green eyes glowed in the reflective luminescent lighting of the room. Blaise’s forehead slick with sweat, beaded and dripping as lips parted, pulled back in a smirk as a tongue flicked out to taste the cock in front of him.

Draco groaned, pleasantly, if not unconsciously, unaware of the scene happening quite literally in front of his eyes. Were they not closed, Harry couldn’t hazard a guess as to Draco’s reaction.

Not when his own were snaking their way out of his throat; tight, coiled emotions losing themselves in the echoing tile of the room in form of pitched, panting whines cut-off with harsh breaths.

“Bl – Bl_aise – ngah! _–– don’t, d-don’t stop – “

None of it mattered. Harry’s insistent babbling only appeared to egg Blaise on. For every thrust Harry gave Blaise either sucked harder or loosened his jaw so that the only friction his cock found was the wet, delicate rubbing of his tongue. Sloppy and nowhere near satisfying, Blaise wanted to ruin him in one go.

With another desperate thrust from Harry, Blaise pulled off him with a sloppy kiss to the pearling head in front of him. The hands previously holding Harry down were now sweeping idly down between the trappings of his slacks and the bottom of his shirt, pensive. Harry eyed Draco to their right, hips still grinding into nothing as he checked Draco. Still deep asleep, eyes still showing nothing but REM sleep.

“Why’d you – _ah!_” Again, Blaise moved silently and efficiently, dragged himself back off the edge of the cot and pulled Harry’s ass with him. His shirt had scrunched up and his thighs pressed back against him. “What’re you doing?”

Blaise didn’t say a word. Harry had met his eyes and shifted again. Blaise glanced down at Harry’s ass as his hand began to fondle him once again, playing with the gathered saliva and precum in lazy, sweeping strokes.

Knowing he was being distracted and having absolutely no qualms with it, Harry had given in. A thumb pressed into his slit, gathering the slick oozing out of it as Harry fought to not come on the spot. His hand retreated, and Blaise brought his thumb to his mouth, making a show of licking it like a treat and coating it thoroughly before pressing it down into Harry’s sac in front of him. Blaise’s thumb rubbed him well, thumb pressing at each ball and sliding his fingers in a sprawl around, but never directly touching, his cock.

Harry wanted to scream. The hissed-out pleas had only brought him more pain, because Blaises’ right hand continued its torture while the other wrapped around Harry’s waist and _heaved_ Harry’s ass up to Blaise’s face.

Another hand wave had Harry feeling the warmth of Blaise’s magic trailing into him, and he resisted the urge to shudder at the strange cleansing spell. He’d had a second’s notice before the man’s tongue was lapping at his ass as if trying to follow the spell.

It was too wet. It was too hot; Harry had to move his hand away from Draco to bite down onto his knuckles. Not to mention the situation in itself; he was being eaten out in a room that wasn’t locked and his cock pulsed at the thought.

The other wizard was methodical; one thumb rubbed maddening patterns into and around his balls, sliding the slicked and heated skin between his splayed-out fingers as his tongue drove itself in as deep as it could go into Harry’s core. Harry’s ruddy cock needed something, _anything_, to get there. It was insane, it was overwhelming. But it wasn’t enough, and Blaise’s knowing stare as he glanced down at Harry only made it worse.

He felt shamed. Aroused. Merlin it was such a fucked thing to do but it was so amazingly, sinfully glorious. Harry couldn’t imagine a better form of torture. Harry was glad he’d lost his voice, but knowing that Blaise knew his name kept falling from his own well-bitten lips despite this made it so, _so much better_.

“What’s that Harry,” the shock of hearing something outside his own panting made Harry jolt. Blaises’ voice sounded so rough it was amazing he hadn’t lost it himself. “Did you say something?” The man bit the part where his left thigh met his ass, hand soothing away the mark. Harry gulped. Watched as Blaise continued to murmur across his skin, mouth scant millimeters away from where he wanted it most.

“I couldn’t hear you – you’ll have to speak up if something’s the matter.”

Harry wanted to die. Blaise was crooning into _his ass_ and somehow expected him to _reply_.

“I – I – n_uh,_” he groaned, “– nothin’s the matter.”

Blaise pursed his lips as if he didn’t believe him, but continued on, this time where Harry wanted it, eyes still hot and focused on him. His eyes flicked to the side momentarily, widening slightly. The bed shifted, and Harry felt his heart leap into his throat as another set of lips pressed to his neck.

“Didn’t take you for the type, Potter,” Draco hissed into his ear, hand reaching around Harry’s calf to grab hold of his cock the second Blaise dipped back down into his ass.

Eyes wide and body tensing immediately, Harry came almost as if on command. He rocked between the hand milking his cock for its worth and the tongue chasing him. White streaks shot onto and underneath the shirt that was rucked up. Draco’s hand pressed into it, fingers trailing surprisingly cold lines down his length and into his stomach.

Once the whites had faded from his eyesight, Harry glanced between Draco and Blaise. Something in his head said it was very disconcerting to watch a conversation happen over very, very vulnerable parts of his body as if they were at a table. For sanity’s sake, Harry willed it away and eased into the cot beneath them.

Draco hummed something noncommittal and pushed Harry’s legs back. It was a bit hard to not feel useless as Blaise set him straight, slipping his pants and slacks back up.

He instead tried to catch his breath, focusing on the feeling of Blaise trailing his hands back and forth around his thighs again. It felt nice. Again, pressure at the right points and Harry was feeling all the tension ooze out of him as his orgasm ebbed away. The stickiness would get to him sooner or later, but he’d figured to hell with it the minute it started.

Boneless, Harry let himself be pulled into Draco’s arms, momentarily jarred by the loss of Blaise. He definitely ignored the put-upon look that appeared on his lover’s face at the noise he made, not needing to ruffle any more feathers.

It felt like an eternity but eventually Draco reluctantly sat up. Reality set in, and Harry went to grab his arm. The blond only stared at him before he shook his head in resignation.

“We’ll talk about it later. I’ve still got work to do. Get some rest.”

Body heat or not, Harry felt his blood run cold at the statement and Draco rushed to correct himself. He put one hand on Harry’s chest, and pointed between the three of them. “It’s fine - Harry, _Harry_ – it’s fine. You’re fine. Blaise is fine. You – just go home, get some rest. We’ll talk when I’m home, okay?”

Harry moved to sit up again but Draco pushed him down, almost back into Blaise, who, still hadn’t said anything. “Go home. Rest. I’ll see you in a few hours, love.”

With a short kiss pressed to the Harry’s sweaty, messed fringe, Draco got up. With a carefree dusting of hands and some intense handwashing, he left the room with a wave.

The door shut, the sign above showing it was quarter ‘til two.


End file.
